Teisennau Mêl!
by Mahala
Summary: Follows on from Elliot though should work as a stand-alone story. This is my usual mixture of crime, mystery, humour, a little angst, a little hurt, a little comfort, bad guys, good guys, cats, bonsai trees ... you get the picture. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N : For those who haven't read Elliot ... well hopefully you will work what Mac did in that story from the first few paragraphs of this!  
**

**Chapter 1**

Mac Taylor had woken up in a good mood. Despite having finished his shift late the previous night he had had six hours solid sleep, a rarity for him and it was his Sunday off which meant one thing. He had time to spend with his new fiancée. He smiled to himself as he washed up his coffee cup and put it on the side to dry next to hers though he almost shook his head in surprise at the very idea of it. He couldn't believe that he had been so fortunate to fall in love again or, what was even more strange, that someone had actually fallen in love with him. Mac dried his hands and turned around to hang up the towel, almost tripping over a ball of black fur in the process. That was something else he couldn't believe!

"Elliot!" Mac did shake his head this time. "You know you are the most devious creature I have ever come across?" Mac looked down into his new pet's sea-green eyes.

_What me? Devious? Elliot's black fur bristled at the outrageous suggestion. Okay well maybe I did sneak into that box and keep especially quiet on the ride home but you know you wanted to keep me really!_

"You know that I would have sent you to the cat refuge if it hadn't been for Christine?" Mac reached down and picked him up and fondled his ears. Elliot purred contentedly.

_Yeah right! Like that was going to happen!_

Mac sighed as he was finally forced to admit to himself that he now had to count himself among New York's pet owning community. He didn't know the first thing about cats other than vague comforting memories of his grandma, her lemon cookies and her ever-present feline friend. Mac carried Elliot through to the bedroom and plopped him on the bed refusing to admit to himself that he actually enjoyed having the little fur-ball around. Mac grabbed a soft plaid shirt and shrugged it on before sitting down to put on his trainers. He winced as a sudden sharp pain ripped through his abdomen. He sat for a moment and waited for it to disappear. Elliot nuzzled up to him as though sensing he was in pain. "It's okay buddy, I'm all right. You know I really ought to start thinking about rearranging some of this stuff?" Mac looked forlornly at his closet with his dark suits hanging in a neat row next to his shirts and a tie rack, the four shelves stacked with his perfectly folded clothes. He wondered how much stuff Christine possessed. "Do you suppose she has a lot of clothes?"

_Elliot stared up him in astonishment. You're asking me? I'm a cat for heaven's sake!_

Mac got up and wandered through to the living area followed quietly by Elliot. "I'll definitely have to get rid of some of this. She'll want room for her collection of cookery books. Maybe we should just get a new place." Mac picked up his signed football off the shelf next to the TV and smiled to himself. "I could give this to Adam. He'd like this."

_As long as you don't get rid of this. It's cool! Elliot leapt elegantly up onto the ball chain machine, one of his favourite items in the apartment. _

"Hey you watch it." Mac couldn't help but smile at Elliot who was totally fascinated by it especially when he switched it on. "That's a very fragile antique."

_All right! No need to be so tetchy. I know what I'm doing. Shouldn't you be going? Christine will be expecting you._

"Behave yourself. I've got to get going. Christine will be expecting me."

_Make sure you bring her back with you. Elliot's mouth watered as he thought about the lovely juicy treats Mac's mate always brought back for him. He hoped it was that nice pink fishy thing she called salmon._

It was a beautiful morning. The sun wasn't fully up and it cast a golden glow on the store-fronts and side-walk. The streets were quiet as Mac strolled along, the only sounds being those of a few cabs trawling for business, a few early-morning commuters and a distant siren. Work never stopped for some people. With a tinge of regret he watched an early morning jogger run past him but the doctor had told him it was still too early for that so he had to content himself with walking for the time being. Mac thought about stopping off for a newspaper but he liked to arrive at the restaurant just as Christine was opening up. He loved sitting at the little bar eating breakfast watching her get ready for the Sunday brunch crowd, laying the tables, freshening the flowers, setting up the menu with her chefs Ben and Rich. As he paused to cross the road an ambulance came roaring by, it's lights flashing. Mac wondered where it was going. He rounded the corner and froze. The ambulance had pulled up next to a squad car and a uniformed officer was directing the paramedics inside. Mac thought his heart would pound out of his chest. A wave of nausea washed over him and he found himself breaking into a run. He could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket and a sharp pain in his chest but he ignored them both. He pounded across the road and flung open the door startling the officer inside.

"Detective Taylor? How did you … I … only … er … just called it in..." Mac ignored him and dodged around the white-clothed tables to the swing doors at the back. He ran into the kitchen and ground to halt. The paramedic kneeling on the floor beside the body looked up at him and shook his head solemnly. The second officer merely stared at him in surprise.

"Christine?" Mac looked at them. "Christine?" The officer and the paramedics looked at one another startled as Mac's voice rang out through the kitchen. Mac spun around as a voice answered calling his name. Abandoning the two men without a word he ran over to the small office at the back of the kitchen.

"Mac! Oh Mac!" Seated on floor by her desk, the phone in a heap next to her, Christine stared up at him unsteadily, her right hand holding a dressing against her forehead. A young paramedic was kneeling by her. Mac dropped to his knees by her side and gathered her into his arms unable to say a word. He felt her grab a handful of his shirt. He took a deep breath trying to control the flood of emotions coursing through him. He could feel her trembling. Slowly he looked up at the paramedic. He didn't need to voice a question.

"She's got a nasty gash that's going to need stitches. And a concussion. She's feeling dizzy and her eyes are unfocussed. She needs to go to hospital."

Mac nodded and shushed Christine as she tried to protest. "You need to do as he says," he said firmly, his voice raw with emotion.

"But Rich ..." Christine looked up at him and blinked unable to focus her eyes.

"Christine … I'm sorry. Rich is dead." He heard her breath catch in her throat but she merely buried her face in his shirt again, her breath coming in short ragged gasps.

"I'll only be a minute. You'll stay with her?" The paramedic looked at Mac questioningly. Mac nodded. Gently Mac moved his hand over hers and lifted the gauze pad. He winced to see a large gash splitting the skin from her hairline to her temple, the skin around it red and angry. He pushed the gauze back in place and felt a red hot ball of anger flare up inside him.

"Mac? Christine?"

Mac turned and shouted. "Don, we're in the office." Don Flack burst in, looking utterly panicked.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded his voice unnaturally loud, shocked at the sight of Mac kneeling on the floor with a clearly injured Christine in his arms

"Rich?" murmured Christine trying to lift her head. It suddenly felt too heavy for her neck. If it hadn't been for Mac holding her she was sure she would have keeled right over.

"Christine, can you tell us what happened?" asked Mac gently.

"Was closing … the back door … he just burst in..."

"Who? Christine?"

"Man. He had a mask. He pushed me … against the carver." Christine tried hard to focus on what she was saying but everything seemed to be getting so far away. Her head was pounding and the only link to the real world seemed to be the feel of Mac's shirt in her hand and the smell of his cologne.

"Did he want money? From the cash register?" Don asked immediately assuming robbery had to be the motive.

For some reason Christine had the sudden urge to laugh. "No he wanted George Washington," she giggled.

Don and Mac exchanged looks of confusion but before they could ask more the two paramedics came back and they were forced to step aside as the two medics lifted her onto the stretcher. "Hey, Christine, stay with me now. No. No. No sleeping!" The paramedic tapped her face gently. "That's it. Keep your eyes open for me."

Mac watched as they wheeled her out. "Mac, go with her." Mac looked at Don for a second torn between his instinct to stay and do his duty, and his desire to be with her. "Your place is with her. Jo and Sheldon are on their way. We got it."

Mac nodded gratefully and followed the paramedics outside. Don ran a hand through his hair in frustration and took a deep breath. The shooting at the pharmacy had been bad enough and Don had felt so helpless as he had be forced to stand by and watch his friend and mentor struggle though months of painful rehab just to get back on his feet. And now this. It was too much. Don knew Mac wasn't back to full strength and he promised himself that he would keep a careful eye on him.

.

.

.

Jo Danville had the early shift. She had risen early and watched Ellie sleep for a while. She left her a post-it note on the refrigerator before quietly closing and locking the door. She had hardly gone two blocks before the call had come through. Checking her phone she felt her pulse rise a notch as she recognized the address. One DOA, one injured. Jo felt sick. She turned her car around with a squeal of tires and headed straight there. Not bothering with her case she pulled up beside the squad car just in time to see an ambulance pull away. She flashed her badge at the officer on the door and rushed inside. "Don?" she called. She had recognized his car so he had to be around. Looking around the restaurant everything seemed normal. No disturbance, no signs of break-in. She heard her name called from the back so she made her way to the swing doors. Although she had eaten in the restaurant, it was the first time she had set foot in the kitchen. It was smaller than she had imagined but it was bright, cheerful and well organized. Don was stood speaking to a young officer by the name of Brinkley. The body of a young man in his early thirties lay on the floor, the handle of a kitchen knife protruding from his belly. "Don tell me everything," she breathed feeling a weight lifted from her shoulders on discovering that the victim was neither Christine nor Mac.

"Tell her what you told me." Don spoke calmly to the young patrol-man but Jo could tell he was deeply upset.

"My partner and I were on patrol heading back to the station when we received a call-out. The proprietor Ms Whitney had called 911 asking for assistance indicating that there was an intruder on the premises and someone was hurt. When we got here we found the back door open, the young man on the floor unconscious and Ms Whitney by the phone in the office." He paused to point to the glass panelled door at the far end of the kitchen. "We called in EMT and tried to stop the bleeding..." He paused again paling as he did so to point down at the bloodied towel wrapped around the knife. "... but it was too late."

"Go on," prompted Don.

"As soon as I heard the siren I went outside and then Detective Taylor arrived. He looked down at the body and then called out for Christine, Miss Whitney that is. He left with her in the ambulance a few moments ago." He looked at Don for approval. Don nodded and thanked him and asked him to secure the street.

"Is it bad?" asked Jo.

"Well I reckon she's going to have one hell of a headache but from what the paramedic was saying I don't think it's too serious."

"Mac?" asked Jo.

Don shrugged. "He seemed to be taking it pretty calmly but Jo he was white as a sheet." He took a deep breath. "Christine said that she was closing up the back door..." Don pointed behind him. "...when a masked man entered and pushed her against the carver." Don nodded and Jo walked over to the brushed steel workspace where a meat carving machine stood. Jo looked closely at the blood stain on the corner of the machine visualizing in her mind the masked man grabbing Christine by her long hair and bashing her head against the machine. Smears of blood down the side indicated that Christine had put her hand to her head and then against the cupboard for support. A trail of stains on the wall led towards the office. "Then this is where it gets a little strange ..." Jo looked up at Don. "Apparently he asked her for George Washington." Jo stared at him incredulous.

"George Washington?"

"Yep! Weird huh?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N : Sorry I should have said. This is not a one-shot like Elliot but a short story - five chapters plus an epilogue. (You know how much I like my epilogues!) In this chapter I do make reference to Mac's anomic aphasia. I haven't seen season 9 so I only know about this from a few spoilers and a review that I read so please forgive me if I have got it wrong.  
**

**Chapter 2**

Time seemed to stop as Mac sat in the hard plastic chair outside the hospital room. _This wasn't supposed to be happening. How could this have happened? Hadn't he had enough hurt and tragedy? Was this his fault? Was someone deliberately out to hurt him by hurting Christine? Why did everyone around him get hurt?_ A thousand and one irrational thoughts whirled through his mind.

"Mac?" Turning, he saw Jo walking towards him. "How is she?" she asked looking through the open door of the small cubicle behind him.

Mac struggled to lift himself out of the chair. "Jo. Er ... she's going to be fine. She's resting." He looked back at her, his eyes filled with pain. He felt Jo put her hand on his arm and push him back into the chair. She sat down next to him.

"Are you okay?" asked Jo.

Mac offered a weak smile. "I'm fine. Did you find anything useful?"

Jo threw her hands in the air. "More questions than answers. Rich - his full name is Richard Locke - died from a single stab wound. It looks like he fought with the intruder before our perp grabbed the knife from a block and stabbed him with it. It was clearly a weapon of opportunity so not premeditated. According to the other chef Ben Blackburn, who arrived about half an hour after you left, they take it in turns to go get the fresh produce from the market. It was Ben's turn to go to the market so Rich went straight to the restaurant. According to Ben, Christine opens up at seven-thirty to take the bread delivery, so Rich would have come in shortly after that to start firing up the ovens ready for Ben to arrive with the produce. The other staff don't arrive till nine-thirty to prepare for brunch. Now the bread was stacked on the side. Don is going to the bakery to try to confirm delivery time and talk to the guy who delivered it. Sheldon has gone back to process the knife and the clothes and trace from the vic's fingernails. Looks like he may have scratched his attacker." Mac nodded as he tried to take in the information. "And I have Danny processing her apartment." Jo paused.

"Her apartment? Why?"

"Mac, whoever attacked her searched her apartment. It's been ransacked. Someone was looking for something and it wasn't money. We found cash in a drawer and her jewellery is untouched. She has some nice silverware – again untouched. Computer, TV, MP3 player all there."

"What on earth could he be looking for?" asked Mac puzzled. "She said something about George Washington."

"Well that's the thing. The one part of her apartment that seems to have garnered his interest the most was her book collection. He pulled every last book off the shelves. I remember you bought her a first edition ..."

Mac gave a half-hearted laugh. "Yeah but it was a cookery book. We're talking eighty dollars. Hardly worth a fortune."

"Perhaps she has something else … worth a lot more. George Washington was a prolific writer. If she has letters or a journal, personal papers, they could be worth something."

Mac didn't look convinced but he nodded and looked at his watch. "It's time to wake her. Let's see if she can tell us something."

Christine was vaguely aware of someone speaking but she seemed to be floating. Her body felt heavy and she was dreaming of Mac. She could smell his cologne. Slowly she forced her eyes open blinking in the bright light.

"Hey sleepy."

Christine smiled as he looked down at her. "Is it time to get up? Can't we have five more minutes?"

Mac heard Jo snigger and he threw her a look but he couldn't help a hint of a smile touch his lips. "Christine, you're in the hospital. Remember?" Again Mac made the mistake of looking at Jo who was grinning broadly. "Jo's here."

"What?" Christine looked up at him blankly for a second then it all came rushing back, the images assaulting her like blows from a boxer in the ring. Mac's heart almost shattered at the look of pain on her face. "Rich... he's dead?"

"Yes. I'm sorry." Mac squeezed her hand to try to comfort her.

"Help me to sit up." Mac lifted her up while Jo raised the bed and rearranged the pillows. Christine used the excuse to try to gain some measure of control. She couldn't let them see what a trembling wreck she was. "Thank you," she whispered desperately trying to fight off the nausea and the vertigo.

Jo smiled and touched her hand. "How are feeling?"

Christine gave a small laugh trying to hide the wince. "A little dizzy, headache but nothing worse than the morning after a night at Myrtle Beach." Jo was highly amused to see Christine flash a little knowing smile at Mac making him blush a little and bite at his bottom lip. She would have to ask him about that one later.

"Christine, if you're up to it, I need to ask you a couple of questions." Christine nodded. "Okay, I am sorry to have to tell you but your apartment was broken into and ransacked..."

"What?"

"...it doesn't look like anything was taken but he seems to have taken a particular interest in your book cases. You mentioned George Washington. Do you have any of his writings? A piece that is valuable?"

A frown creased her forehead as Christine thought desperately. "No, I don't have anything like that. I mean I have some nice books but they're all on cookery, travel, plants, history. There are one or two first editions but nothing that it that valuable except that one you bought me." Christine flashed Mac a shy smile. Jo was pleased to see Mac relax a little. Don had been right. He had been white as a sheet but a little colour was returning to his face. "I don't understand. This is all about a book?"

Jo looked helpless. "We don't know that for sure. Christine I hate to have to ask this but can you think of anything else he said or did, anything about him, anything at all? Just try to go through what happened and tell me as much as you can."

Christine scooped a handful of hair behind her ear. Jo could see a muscle working in Mac's jaw as he looked at the black and purple bruises around her throat. "I left Mac's at six thirty and took a cab to the restaurant. I went round to the side door and opened up, switched on the lights and took my purse to the office. There was a message from Ben to say that he was getting scallops rather than crayfish so could I change the menu. I did that then I took the dirty linen to the back door ready for pick-up. Then Sam arrived with the bread delivery. I took it in and put it on the side. I was just going back to lock the door when ..." She broke off. Jo could see she was struggling. Mac sat gently on the edge of the bed.

"Go on. You're doing great."

As though drawing strength from his presence she nodded slightly. "He flung the door open and pushed me against the wall. He asked where it was. He pulled me through to the kitchen and asked if it was there. I told him I didn't know what he was talking about. He said 'The book with the George Washington'. He said that I had to have it and he got angry when I said I didn't understand and he hit me. I fell against the carver." Jo nodded. "I thought he was going to kill me and then Rich came in … I don't remember much after that. There was a woman screaming and then I remember seeing Rich on the floor..." Hot stinging tears began to flow down her face. Mac gathered her into his arms. "I'm sorry..."

"Christine it's all right. You did great. You need to get some rest but I just need to ask you one last thing. You said you heard a woman screaming...?"

Christine took a deep breath and looked up at them scrubbing at her eyes angrily like she was ashamed of her tears. "Yes … er … she seemed scared. She kept saying something like 'what have you done?' and he shouted at her to shut up. I'm sorry I don't remember more. The next thing I remember is the paramedic and you being there."

Jo nodded and looked at Mac. Before they could say anything, a young nurse walked in. "I'm sorry but you're going to have to leave. I need to take Miss Whitney for a scan." Seeing the look on Mac's face. "It's okay. Just routine. Just want to make sure that there's nothing going on that we can't see. Perhaps you could come back this afternoon? After lunch?" Mac nodded and gently kissed Christine on the cheek with a promise to return later.

.

.

.

Jo drove him back to the lab. The short ride there was silent, Mac lost in his own thoughts. Jo sighed to see how he was struggling. They made their way to autopsy where Sid and Sheldon were waiting.

"How is she Mac?" Sid unclipped his glasses and studied his friend's features. He looked strained.

"She's going to be okay. Thanks Sid. What have you got for me?"

"Nothing that you probably don't already know. A single blow to the abdomen with a six inch carving knife. He didn't stand a chance. It went straight through the aorta. There's bruising on his back consistent with being thrown against the counter and there are defensive wounds on his arms confirming a struggle."

"Good news is we did pull what looks like dark green fibres from under his nails." Sheldon held up a small evidence bag. "Might give us something. Did Christine tell you anything else?"

Mac nodded. "Two things! The perp was looking for a book containing 'The George Washington'." Mac put the emphasis on the word 'the'. He frowned, his mind wandering as some vague memory flitted across his mind but it disappeared before he could grasp hold of it.

"You said two things?" prompted Sid curious.

"What? Oh yes and the other thing was that he didn't act alone. He had an ..." Mac paused as he searched his memory and Sid frowned. "... an … another person helping him. A woman!"

.

.

.

Five minutes later, Mac accompanied by Jo, entered layout. He was still trying to remember the word for a person's partner in crime. "Hey Mac. You okay? Christine? She's all right?" Mac smiled at the concern in Danny's voice and the worried look in his eyes. Ever since the shooting the younger man had been like a mother hen fussing around her chick. Though it could be irritating at times, Mac was touched at his concern and found his attitude quite endearing.

"She's doing okay thanks Danny They're doing a few more tests now and will probably keep her in overnight for observation until the vertigo goes away." said Mac reassuringly patting Danny on the shoulder. "Now what do we know so far?" Danny nodded but Mac noticed that Danny kept looking at him hard. "Right … er … well there are no fingerprints in the kitchen or the apartment so the perp must have been wearing gloves but there are some partial boot prints. Look like a size eight – I'm running a search now to see if we can get a type. And something unusual that you're gonna like." Mac and Jo straightened up slightly, their curiosity piqued. " I found trace in the print on Christine's doormat. Clay!"

"Clay?" Mac and Jo were clearly disappointed. "Danny ..."

"Not so fast Jo. It's not just any kind of clay ..." Jo had to smile as Danny was clearly working up to his grand finale. "It's baked clay. Japanese baked clay to be exact."

"Danny!" warned Mac his voice sharp but the look in his eyes showed he wasn't really mad.

Danny grinned. "Okay. My beloved Edna tells me it's Akadama, a type of Japanese baked clay specifically produced for bonsai trees and imported into the US by a select number of specialist nurseries. Adam's working on a list as we speak. Apparently it is the soil of choice for many Japanese bonsai masters ..." Danny scratched his head and rocked back on his heels "... though I was just reading an article that says cat litter works just as well. Speaking of which how's Elliot?"

"Shut up Danny!" Mac rolled his eyes as Danny sniggered. "Haven't I had to endure enough of your teasing on that subject?"

"Sorry Mac, it's just that you're the last person in the world I'd imagine owning a cat."

"Me too," huffed Mac. "But Christine adores him..." Mac gave a helpless shrug.

"Mac!" Adam came bustling in followed by a rather smug looking Don. "Okay, Don went to visit the baker that dropped off the bread at Christine's … oh … she's okay isn't she? ... I should have asked that ..." Mac nodded indicating he should continue. "Oh! Right! That's good. Er … Sam … the baker … he spotted a blue Taurus parked on the corner with it's engine running. We have a traffic cam nearby … anyway I got a licence plate and the car is registered to a Sally Merchant."

Don flipped open his notebook. "We ran her DMV. She's got a couple of outstanding parking tickets and a DUI from years ago but no history. However, I checked her out and what is interesting is that she has a brother..."

"Tristan!" Don looked up sharply as the others stared at Mac. He had closed his eyes. "Tristan Merchant. I arrested him – it's got be ten or eleven years ago. Part of a drugs bust. Why can I remember that but not ..?" Mac's voice faded away. Danny and Don exchanged glances as did Adam and Jo. Mac seemed to pale before them and they noticed him draw in his breath as though in pain.

"Danny, why don't you go with Don and talk to this Sally Merchant. See why she was hanging around near the restaurant. Adam see if you can link either of them to the trace we found." Jo threw them a look and they caught her meaning and left. "Mac … what's going on?"

"What? Nothing's going on! I'm fine." Mac spoke a little too quickly and not failing to miss the look on Jo's face he realized that he wasn't going to be able to hide his aphasia for much longer. "I need to get back to the restaurant and apartment and see if we can put either of them in there." Mac strode away before Jo could say anything else.

"Dammit Mac! Why won't you talk to me?" Jo muttered to herself. She knew something was up. Danny clearly did and it looked at though the others suspected something too.

"He needs to tell us in his own time." Jo spun round surprised to see Sheldon standing behind her. She hadn't heard him come in .

"Tell us what exactly?"

Sheldon hesitated for a few seconds as though trying to decide whether he should say something. "I'm guessing that he's suffering from anomic aphasia, the inability to name certain common objects or recall certain words. It's a possible consequence of his brain having been deprived of oxygen while they tried to resuscitate him." Jo felt that she had been punched in the face and she leaned back against the light-table. "It could be temporary and I assume that he's hoping that it will go away without anyone having to know but ..." He left the word hanging.

"...it could be permanent?" Sheldon nodded. "Why doesn't he just tell us?" Jo caught the look on Sheldon's face. "Don't answer that." Jo sighed. She knew Mac well enough to know why. "You're right. He'll tell us when he's ready. I'm going back to Christine's with him." Sheldon smiled and shook his head as she left. He could hear her jewellery jingling all the way down the hall. At least he didn't need to worry about Mac with the whole team watching him like hawks. Sheldon chuckled to himself at his own joke as he held up the bag with the fibres.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N : Thank you dear readers and reviewers for braving a Mac and Christine story. I know this is not a popular option on this site but she does lend herself to a few amusing plot-lines and I get to add stuff about my next favourite pastime after fanfiction - cooking ;-) Oh and if anyone can spot the two references to one of Mr Sinise's previous movies ****in this chapter ****they get extra Smartie points!  
**

**Chapter 3**

Mac strode into Christine's apartment with his case in his hand having left Jo downstairs. He stared in dismay at the mess in the compact living room. The drawers of the dresser had been pulled open, cushions thrown off the couch and every single book had been pulled from the shelves that lined one wall. Slipping on gloves Mac picked up the nearest book on Italian cuisine and flicked through it. "The book with the George Washington," he murmured to himself. Again a vague memory teased him, flitting around in the back of his mind. He tried to focus. George Washington, first president of the United States but not the only George Washington. There was the inventor of instant coffee, the jazz trombonist, the bass player for John Lee Hooker. Mac smiled to himself, a great bass player. Then there was the baseball player, not to mention the ships. Images flew round in his mind: the elegant eighteenth century sloop, the modern Nimitz class nuclear-powered super-carrier, the racehorse, the bridge that links New York to Fort Lee. Mac's mind began to spin.

"Detective Taylor?" Mac almost shot out of his skin as he turned around to come face to face with an elderly man with gentle smile and a dark grey sweater with a hole in one elbow.

"Mr Oldham!" Mac put down the book and pulled off a glove.

The older man took Mac's out-stretched hand. "I am so sorry to hear what happened. Is Christine all right?" Mac nodded and assured him that she would be okay. "Oh what a mess! I was so disappointed when she told me she was going to move out. It's hard to get good tenants but …" He looked around the room in horror. "... it's better for her to be with you especially after this. She shouldn't be on her own."

Mac nodded. "Yes. It's a shame that I live so far away. It's perfect for her living just above the restaurant. If this place had been bigger I'd have moved in here." Mitchell Oldham looked up at Mac for a moment as an idea popped into his head.

"Do you have a minute?"

.

.

.

Several miles away, Don hammered on a door. "Sally Merchant. NYPD. Open up." Danny stood to one side of the door and listened. A faint voice called for them to wait and then the door opened a crack.

A pale faced woman with red-rimmed eyes and long straggly hair looked out at them. "What do you want?"

"Can we come in?"

She looked at them suspiciously. "What do you want?" she repeated.

Don lifted his badge. "We want to know why you were sitting in your car outside Christine Whitney's restaurant this morning and why your brother attacked her and killed her chef?" Sally Merchant's eyes opened wide and then filled with tears and she nodded. She pushed the door to and they heard the chain being pulled back.

"You'd better come in." Don and Danny looked at one another in astonishment as they hadn't really expected her to cooperate. They followed her into a small room with faded furniture and baby toys thrown all over the floor. She scooped up a few and threw them into a large wooden box. She pulled discarded clothes, papers and magazines off the couch and gestured for them to sit down. As he passed Don glanced into the bedroom where a cot was squashed between the closet and the bed. A tiny pair of legs bopped up and down as the baby played happily with it's feet. Danny glanced into the kitchen and grimaced at the mess. The sink was piled high, the remnants of breakfast were left on the tiny table, crumbs covered the floor and the trash was over-flowing.

Sally Merchant sat in a hard-backed chair opposite them and stuck her hands into the pocket of her hooded top. She had clearly been crying. "He's gone. He's not here," she whimpered. Don leaned to one side and pointed to the red mark on the side of her face.

"He do that?"

Sally nodded and pulled out a tissue and blew her nose. "He'll kill me if he knows I'm talking to you." She looked down. "That man … the chef … he's dead?"

"Yes he is. Did Tristan kill him?"

Sally nodded. "I tried to warn Tristan that he was coming but I couldn't get there in time. He didn't mean to kill him but the chef jumped him. They were struggling and Tristan just grabbed the knife from the block. "

"Sally, what were you after? What does Christine Whitney have that you're prepared to kill for it?" Sally looked up at Danny in horror. "No. Not me. I would never kill for it," she breathed. She looked at them and took a deep breath. "This sounds crazy but I don't exactly know what it is but it's supposedly worth a lot of money. Our grandfather was a wealthy man but he used to drink and gamble. He sold or gave away virtually everything they had. Bit by bit they lost everything but Granny always said she had kept one last bit of treasure secret from him. She called it her rainy-day treasure. As she got older she developed Alzheimers. We tried to ask her about it but all she said was that she kept it in the one place no man ever looked. We've looked everywhere for it but we never found anything. I thought she was maybe just a little … you know." Sally touched her head. "But Tristan wouldn't let it go. He had every item in her home valued. There was nothing. We had to sell most of the stuff when she died. As you can see I don't have the room and he needed the money..." She left the word hanging.

"Drugs?" asked Don gently as the baby began to fret in the bedroom. Sally nodded and excused herself. She came back with the baby cooing to it.

"I hadn't seen Tristan for ages. I didn't want him being near the baby. He can be unpredictable when he's high but yesterday he suddenly turned up demanding to know where Granny's cookbooks were. I told him that I had sold them. He was furious. That was when..." She broke off as her hand went to her face. She took a deep breath. "There's a second hand book-store over near Hudson. I didn't have the room for them and since my ex is always late with the alimony I needed a little extra cash."

"So Tristan went to the store?" asked Danny.

"And then he called me to say that he'd found out who had bought the books and that he was going to get them back. I was waiting for him to try to stop him." Sally flushed a deep red and looked away.

"You mean you were waiting while he burgled Christine Whitney's apartment in the hope he would find the treasure." Danny looked at her, his eyes blazing. Sally started crying again.

"I'm so sorry … it's just so hard … with the baby … on my own and Pete never pays the alimony on time. I just needed more diapers and milk … please don't let them take my baby. Please," she begged, tears streaming down her face as she buried her face in the little girl's hair.

"Tell us where we can find your brother and we'll see what we can do." Danny suddenly felt sorry for her. He shuddered involuntarily as he imagined being in her position.

"He's living with his girlfriend, Tamako on the Lower East Side." She pulled an address book from the dresser and held it out to them. "Please don't tell him it was me that told you. I beg you." Don felt a little sick at the fear in her eyes and nodded as he noted down the address.

Having called it in Don and Danny headed to the address they had been given. As they arrived a squad car drew up. Don showed the photograph of their perp to the two officers. They both nodded and took off to watch the fire-escape at the back of the building.

Climbing up to the third floor, Don hammered on the door. "Tristan Merchant. NYPD." A sound came from the inside. The door opened and a slight Japanese woman in a tiny two piece purple pyjama set opened the door.

"He's not here. He's gone." She wavered from side to side, and looked at them with glazed eyes. Don threw Danny a look of disgust. She was clearly out of her head.

"Mind if we look around?"

"Help yourself." She wobbled down the hallway to collapse on a chair, her head lolling to one side. Danny went to the window where the two officers shook their heads. He waved at them to come up. Danny looked around the apartment as Don came out of the bedroom holding up a dark green sweater on the edge of his pen.

"Found this in the wash basket." Danny pulled on gloves and looked at it. "That looks like blood to me."

Danny nodded. "Me too." He turned to Tamako. "Where's Tristan? Where did he go?"

Tamako looked at him with empty eyes as the two officers joined them. "To find George Washington," she giggled. "We're gonna be rich!" she whispered conspiratorially. The two officers looked at her and then looked questioningly at Danny. He shrugged and gestured to the drug's paraphernalia on the table.

"Book her! Don, call Jo and let her know what we've found. I'll bag this ..." Danny held up the sweater and pointed to an object behind him. "... and that." Don turned around and arched an eyebrow at the miniature tree standing on the credenza. Danny picked up the small bag of soil propped up by the tree and waved it at Tamako. "You should try cat litter. It's a lot cheaper than this stuff."

"Cat litter?" Don glared at his friend. "Don't you start. It's bad enough with Mac. I still can't believe he's got a bloody cat."

.

.

.

_The cat in question leapt up onto the couch and meowed pitifully. You're hurt!_

"It's all right Elliot. I'm fine."

_Elliot meowed indignantly. You don't look fine to me. I can smell blood. _

"You're quite right buddy. And you're not fine. You were supposed to stay in overnight." Mac scolded gently.

"Mac, the x-ray and the scan were clear. I just wanted to come home. I've had enough of hospitals." Christine looked up at him as she curled up on Mac's couch with Elliot in her lap. Mac looked down at her and then sighed knowing what she meant; he sank down to sit next to her. He put his arm around her and she leaned into his embrace. "You're not mad at me?"

Mac smiled. "How could I be mad at you? You just scared the hell out of me. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you."

"Now you know how I felt," she said quietly. Mac buried his face in her hair and they just sat quietly for a few seconds each glad just to be able to hold the other. "Are you any closer to finding out who's behind this?"

Mac lifted his head to look at her. "We have every reason to believe that a man named Tristan Merchant was the one who attacked you."

"Why?"

"It seems that his grandmother supposedly hid some 'treasure' before she died. He seems to think it was in one of the cookbooks that his sister sold to Hodges Bookshop. Somehow he found out that you had bought those books and he was trying to get it back."

"Treasure in a cookbook?" Christine stared at Mac as though he had gone mad.

Mac had to smile. "Apparently she told her grand-daughter it was the one place no man ever looks." Christine stared at him for a second then burst out laughing. Mac tried to look at affronted but couldn't quite maintain it as he delighted in her laughter. "Do you remember which books you bought from that shop?"

Christine nodded. "Of course! Let me see, there was an Evelyn Patterson first edition, a copy of French Provincial Cooking by Elizabeth David, not a first edition unfortunately but nice nonetheless … oh, and that one I left in your kitchen last night." Mac raised an eyebrow as he vaguely recalled glancing at the book earlier that morning. "I was going make you Teisennau Mêl this afternoon."

"What's that?"

"Mac Llewellyn Taylor!" Christine feigned a shocked look. "I thought you had Welsh ancestry. You don't know what Teisennau Mêl are?" Mac's face took on an exasperated look making Christine giggle. "Welsh Honey Cakes."

"Welsh Honey Cakes?" Mac contemplated the idea for a second as he recalled glancing at the page she had marked earlier that morning when he had washed up his coffee mug. Then suddenly he sat up looking like he had had a revelation. "Of course! George Washington!" Christine stared at him as he jumped up and ran to the kitchen.

_What's got into him? Elliot looked up at his mistress sensing her surprise._

Christine looked down at the small black cat sitting in her lap. "Don't look at me!"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N : Special ****Smartie points go to tlh45. The film was Imposter. The music during the shower scene was John Lee Hooker's Boom Boom Boom and Oldham was his character's name! And now to find the George Washington and get Mac into a bit of trouble ... oh come on you know I love a little Mac peril!  
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**Chapter 4**

Jo, Don and Danny arrived at Mac's and rang the bell. Mac grinned as he let them in.

"Hey Christine!" Jo plopped herself onto the couch and gave her a hug. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling much better, thanks Jo."

_Elliot jumped up onto the back of the couch and scowled. You!_

Don grimaced and lingered near the door. There was a short stand-off between man and feline until Danny intervened. "So where's this treasure then?" he asked enthusiastically. Mac pointed to the coffee table. Danny pursed his lips thinking that Mac was joking but, on realizing that he wasn't, he slowly picked up the book. "Welsh Traditional Cooking?" Mac nodded. "Oh … kay! … So this is some rare first edition worth millions?" Mac shook his head and allowed himself a small smug smile. Seeing that the book had a page marked, Danny opened the book half-expecting a hollowed out centre or a treasure map. "Honey Cakes? The treasure is a recipe?" Danny lifted the book in his right hand.

Mac shook his head as though he was addressing a four year old. "The other hand." Danny looked at his left hand and the bookmark.

"But this is a postcard ..." Danny peered at the picture on the card that appeared to be covered in a layer of plastic wrap. "Hey, isn't that the Washington Monument in DC?" Danny grinned as he turned the card over. "Maybe there's a clue to where the treasure is hidden." Don peered over his shoulder as he read. "Dear Glenys, I do hope you and the baby are well ..." His voice trailed away as he scanned the rest of the text. Danny looked up at Mac. "So not a clue ..." Mac shook his head and lifted his eyebrows. Danny looked at him and then back at the card. Clearly he was missing something "I don't get it Mac … what the … oh I don't believe it!" Danny's face lit up.

"What?" Don demanded.

Jo sat up glancing at Christine who had the same smug smile as Mac. "Come on. The suspense is killing me."

Danny turned the card around for her to see. "The stamps!" Jo peered at the insignificant brown and blue stamps in the corner of the card and her eyes widened.

Mac pointed to one of the stamps. "The one in the corner is worth about sixty cents but the George Washington next to it is worth about a hundred and sixty thousand dollars, the Benjamin Franklin next to that about a hundred thousand dollars."

Jo was stunned. "Oh Good Lord! Are you saying Danny is holding a quarter of a million dollars?"

Danny sank into the nearest seat. "Wow Mac you guys are rich! Hey you can really tie the knot in style with this."

Christine smiled at Mac. "Clever."

Jo clapped her hands. "Stamps!"

Don sneezed. "Bloody cats!"

_Elliot scowled. Cat-hater!_

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Tristan Merchant kicked the wall in frustration as he spotted the squad cars near Tamako's apartment. He knew he couldn't go back there and he couldn't go to his sister's. He needed a fix and for that he needed money. He thought back to the woman in the restaurant, the woman who had his inheritance. He couldn't believe it. After all that searching, it was that damned plastic-covered postcard that Granny had insisted on using as a bookmark that had been worth a fortune. He kicked at the wall again as he recalled sitting at the kitchen table and watching her cover it. _"We wouldn't want George Washington to get spoiled now would we children?"_ If it hadn't been for the report on the evening news about that kid selling his father's stamp collection that turned out to be worth over two million dollars, Tristan would never have given the scrappy little card another thought. But he could picture it now, him and his sister in the little kitchen that smelled of honey and fresh baking, and his granny covering her special bookmark with plastic wrap.

It was his and he meant to get it back from that rich bitch with the fancy restaurant. His hands shook as he pulled out his phone. He called the operator and asked to be put through to the hospital. He waited for a few moments and then asked after her but the hospital informed him she was being discharged. He shoved the phone back in his pocket. _What to do?_ A passing cab with it's for hire sign lit up made the decision for him. Tristan flagged it down and headed towards the hospital all the time wondering how he could get back what was his. He waited outside the hospital until she appeared. He watched her walk unsteadily towards the waiting cab but as she did so he recognized the man with his arm wrapped protectively around her. Tristan Merchant couldn't believe his eyes. Mac Taylor, the bastard that had arrested him all those years ago. He watched as he handed her into the cab. Clearly he was more to her than just a concerned police officer. Tristan Merchant smiled to himself. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage and gain a little revenge at the same time.

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Don walked into Jo's office to find Sheldon perched on the edge of her desk. Sheldon grinned as he approached. "We've got him. We have a match to the vic's blood and the fibres we found from the green sweater found in Tristan Merchant's apartment. The trace from his boots is the same as the bonsai tree soil. And we have Sally Merchant's deposition not to mention … the ... 'George Washington' ..."

"... and don't forget … the ... 'Benjamin Franklin'," added Jo.

"So all we need is … the … Tristan Merchant!" Don folded his arms. "I've got his photo out everywhere, airports, bus stations, train stations. And I've got a couple of my guys checking out his usual haunts. It would help if Tamako wasn't flying … if you know what I mean."

Jo grimaced. "She still as high as kite?"

Don's face matched Jo's. "Oh yeah! She's giving the boys down at the precinct one helluva show, I'm tellin' ya', not to mention she's giving Geisha's a bad reputation!"

"Hey Jo." Adam came waltzing in. "I tracked down those importers for the Akadama and one of them is called Hiro Satou. He's Tamako's brother-in-law and has a nursery over in Queens."

Don nodded. "He could be hiding out there. It might be worth checking."

Jo nodded but as she was about to say something her phone rang. She picked it up. "Hey Christine … whoa … slow down ... when? … don't worry … no stay where you are … we'll be right over … do not open the door to anyone but us!"

The three men could feel the hairs on the backs of their necks stand on end as she spoke. "What the hell is going on Jo?" asked Don as he saw the blood drain from Jo's face.

"Tristan Merchant just contacted Christine. He told her if she didn't bring him the postcard he's going to kill Mac."

"What?" Don couldn't believe his ears. He watched Jo dial Mac's number. It went straight to voice-mail.

"I'm going to run a trace." Adam whirled around and ran out of the office.

"How did this happen?" Sheldon's face was as hard as stone.

"I don't know. All she said was that Mac went out to get groceries for supper. She was just wondering where he had got to when she got the call. Don, she's frantic. We have to get over there now." Jo's face said it all.

"Okay, I'm going to call Danny and get him to come back in and then see if I can help Adam trace Mac..." Sheldon was interrupted as Don's phone rang.

"Flack," he answered tersely. He listened for a moment. "Yeah, when was this?" He held a finger up at Sheldon to wait. "Are you sure? Get a APB out on that licence plate now. Give me the number." He flicked his fingers to Jo for a pen and paper. She and Sheldon looked over his shoulder as he wrote down the details. "Get that to Adam," he whispered. Sheldon grabbed it and ran. "All right listen up, your suspect sounds like Tristan Merchant. He's wanted for the murder of Richard Locke and we believe he may have abducted Mac Taylor." Don hung up the call swearing under his breath. "Forty minutes ago, a man hijacked the driver of a cab under pretext of getting his injured friend to hospital. It took place one block from Mac's apartment. They found Mac's wallet on the ground nearby. The driver described the attacker as six foot, dark hair, brown eyes, unshaven, wearing jeans, denim jacket and green tee-shirt. Sounds like Merchant."

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Mac Taylor was royally pissed off. His head hurt, his jaw hurt and the pain in his stomach was excruciating. He forced himself to sit up and waited till the pain in his stomach abated. He looked around and was surprised to find himself in the back of a cab. He peered out through the window and was even more surprised to see rough brick walls lined with shelves of boxes, shallow ceramic pots in varying shades and a huge table with a couple of miniature trees standing in front of a panel adorned with dozens of tools ranging from wooden handled picks and hooks to metal shears and spatulas. Mac caught the sound of voices and glimpsed three men approaching the lock-up. He recognized Merchant and he felt his anger burn but he knew he had to play it cool so he lay back down. Mac knew he could take Merchant given the chance and the smaller of the two men that accompanied him but the other guy looked like a Sumo wrestler. He closed his eyes and waited. The voices got nearer.

"You should not have brought a cop here. You are a fool." A heavily accented voice spoke angrily.

"Look once I get the stamps, I'll be able to pay you back and Tamako and I ..."

"Shut up! Kimo, take the cop and lock him in the cellar until I can decide what's to be done. And get rid of the cab. You come with me." Mac heard two sets of steps walk away. There was a noise and a shadow fell across the back of the car. The door of the cab opened. Mac cracked an eye open and waited until Kimo's face appeared in the frame of the door then he offered up a short prayer, drew back his leg and kicked out with everything he had. The huge man flew backwards colliding with the shelves. The force with which he hit them made them shudder and a box tumbled down on top of him, bouncing off his head to land in a pile of packing straw. Mac sat up and peered cautiously out of the door. The man didn't move. He just sat there, his legs splayed like a gigantic over-stuffed rag doll. Mac couldn't help a look of surprise.

"Huh? Well I'll be damned. That was easy," he muttered to himself as he looked to see if Merchant and the other man had heard anything but there was no one in sight. He pulled himself up and winced as he tested out his jaw. He prodded gently at the back of his head already able to feel the huge bump that was forming there. He climbed out of the cab. Cautiously making his way to the entrance of the lock-up, he looked around the enclosed yard. To his left was a solid wall, evidently the back of another building, and to his right was what appeared to be a greenhouse. The fourth side of the square was obviously the store. It's service door stood partially open next to a large archway with a high metal gate. Mac's eyes fell despairingly on the large shiny pad-lock. No exit there. Tristan and his companion had obviously gone into the store. Mac made a quick decision and headed for the greenhouse. The old-fashioned building had a brick base and tall, green-stained windows. He quietly opened the small door and looked around. The long narrow room stretched away to his left and Mac swore on seeing that there were no other exits. Narrow tables stood around three of the edges and in a long line in the centre of the room. The nearest wall was taken up with a large water-tank, a row of watering cans, several brooms and a rusty wheelbarrow. Dozens of trees in a myriad of colours covered every table. If Mac had had the time and the inclination he would have paused to admire them but at that moment all he was concerned about was finding a phone and a way out, and not necessarily in that order.

Voices echoed from the door at the other side of the courtyard so Mac pulled the greenhouse door closed and ducked down. Careful not to be seen he risked a quick look and spied Merchant accompanied by the small Japanese man who was heading purposefully towards the lock-up carrying a hand-gun. They went straight into the lock-up and Mac heard then the man shout. Mac ran a hand through his hair in frustration as he looked around the greenhouse. He was trapped.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Adam's fingers flew across the keyboard. "Okay, I'm gonna try switching it on remotely … come on … come on" Sheldon leaned over his shoulder as Danny came running into the room. "Yes!" he screamed in triumph but then he frowned in consternation. "Hey … that's the same address."

"What?" Danny looked at the lab tech in surprise.

"It's that nursery over in Queens owned by Hiro Satou, Tamako's brother-in-law and according to this that's where Mac's phone is."

"Right!" Danny looked over his shoulder as he made for the door. "Call Flack, he's on his way to Mac's place with Jo. Tell him to head straight over there. Come on Doc."

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_Elliot paced up and down nervously. The fear radiating off his mistress was making him worried. He sat at her feet and meowed loudly. What is wrong?_

"Oh Elliot." Christine gathered him up in her arms. "Please let him be all right. Please." The phone rang and Christine all but dropped him as she grabbed for it. "Jo? … Where? … You'll let me know? … Okay ... No I'm fine. Just go. I'll be okay." No sooner had she put the phone down than there was a ring at the door. "Christine, it's Lindsay!"

Christine jumped up and ran to the door. She peered through the spy-hole even though she had recognized Lindsay's voice. As soon as she opened the door a little bundle of energy came shooting through the door. "Hi Auntie Christine, I've brought a present for Elliot." Lucy bounded into the room waving a small bag and ran straight over to the couch. "Elliot!"

Lindsay smiled helplessly at Christine as they embraced. "Sorry. It's impossible to get a sitter on a Sunday afternoon. How are you?" Christine gave her a weak smile and muttered that she was fine though Lindsay could see that she was struggling but trying to put on a brave face. Lindsay locked the door behind her. "They'll find him, you'll see."

Both women started as the phone rang. "Phone!" yelled Lucy excitedly. Lindsay rolled her eyes and even Christine had to smile as the little girl grabbed the phone and almost shouted into it. "Hello?"

"Lucy no! Don't ..." began Lindsay only to stop mid-sentence as Lucy giggled.

"Hi Uncle Mac. Mommy and I have come to visit Auntie Christine and I got a present for Elliot. It's a toy mouse." She listened for a bit. "Okay. See you soon. Auntie Christine, Uncle Mac wants to talk to you." She held out the phone. Her smile was replaced by a puzzled expression when he saw the look on her mother's and aunt's faces.

Christine stepped forward hesitantly and took the phone from the little girl. "Mac?" She listened for a moment before answering okay and putting the phone down. She turned to stare at Lindsay whose face showed a mixture of surprise and confusion. "Er ... Mac says he'll be back in about forty minutes and could I call out for pizza as he's lost the groceries?" Christine had a sudden urge to laugh and she clapped a hand over her mouth but not before Lindsay had seen the look on her face and she too burst into giggles.

_Elliot looked up at his mistress in surprise. The fear and pain had gone and his mistress appeared to be strangely happy. Elliot wondered how humans could cry and laugh at the same time. Oh well he decided, this had to be a good thing as was the crazy smelling toy that Lucy was dangling in front of him. And moreover, Elliot was ecstatic as he had just heard the magic word. Pizza!_

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Don pulled the car up with a screech of tires and he and Jo jumped out. They both ran up to the green and gold painted store-front advertising the sale of 'Exotic Bonsai Trees and Accessories'. Don pulled a gun as he peered through the glass. "What the …?" Don looked at Jo in surprise and pushed open the door, his gun dangling uselessly in his hand. The inside of the store was neatly laid out with glass shelving and display cases. Don wrinkled his nose as he was greeted by the smell of damp earth and fertilizer. He stopped abruptly, re-holstered his gun and folded his arms. He looked at the man sitting on the floor dressed in jeans, denim jacket and green tee-shirt, his hands tied behind his back with green wire. He exchanged glances with Jo and they stared questioningly at the other man sitting nonchalantly on the desk his back leaning against the wall.

Mac looked at them briefly and then stared at the phone in his hand. "Damn, you guys are quick!"

Don and Jo peered at Mac. Apart from the large bruise swelling on his chin, he looked fine. However Jo was puzzled by the way his clothes clung to him and the way water dripped from his shoes. "Why are you wet?"

Mac arched one eyebrow but before he could answer the sound of sirens reached their ears. "Ah good here comes the cavalry." Mac gingerly got down off the desk and tried not to wince. "Would you mind doing the honours?" He nodded at Tristan Merchant who was sitting on the floor looking very subdued. "Oh and there's a guy in the lock-up and another in the greenhouse. This is his." Mac shuffled his way past them handing a stunned Jo a gun in a bag as he went. Danny and Sheldon came running in through the door only to come grinding to a halt in surprise. "Ah Danny, perfect timing. You can give me a lift home and pick up your wife and daughter at the same time."

Danny's mouth fell open as Mac walked gingerly towards him. He peered closely at him. "Why are you wet?"

Mac gritted his teeth and held up a hand. "Danny. Not now!" He turned to Sheldon and with a flick of his head. "Sheldon, you might want to take a look at the guys in the greenhouse and the lock-up."

Sheldon looked at Mac concerned to see him holding his stomach. "Why what happened?"

Mac grinned. "They had a close encounter."

Sheldon looked confused as Mac walked past him and out through the door. "A close encounter with what?"

Mac turned around to look at Sheldon surprised that he needed to ask. He pointed a finger towards his chest. "Er … me!" Then Mac thought for a second and decided he had to concede. "Well … okay … it wasn't all me. I had a little help from a clay pot and a bonsai tree!" Mac turned around and headed towards the car yelling for Danny, leaving Jo, Don and Sheldon staring after him.

"Oh well, it just goes to show ..." Don commented making the others turn to look at him. Don looked down at Tristan Merchant. "... you should never mess with Mac Taylor on his day off!"

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Twenty minutes later, Danny warily accompanied Mac up to his apartment. As soon as he stepped over the threshold, Lucy came running up. "Uncle Mac!" She threw her arms around his legs and then immediately let go. "Ugh! You're all wet! And you smell funny!"

"Yeah, I had to take an unexpected swim. I guess I need a shower huh?" Mac smiled at his god-daughter who was wrinkling her nose and looking at him bizarrely. He nodded his thanks at Lindsay over his god-daughters head. Lindsay just smiled back giving a silent sigh of relief that he seemed relatively okay.

"Lucy, it's time to go home. Come along!" Lindsay bundled her protesting daughter out of the door.

"Don't you think we ought to make sure he's okay?" asked Danny looking at Mac with the same expression as he did when Lucy caught the slightest ailment.

Lindsay rolled her eyes and grabbed Danny's jacket and pulled him out of the door. "You guys call if you need anything." She pulled the door shut firmly behind them.

Mac walked in to see Christine standing there. Her face was almost as pale as the dressing on her forehead. She offered him a weak smile. Mac gave a half-laugh. "So much for a quiet day off." He opened his arms as she slid into his embrace.

After a moment Christine looked up at him. "Is life with you always going to be like this?"

Mac pulled back and grimaced. "I certainly hope not but I can tell you one thing ..."

"What's that?"

"You've got to stop buying cookery books!"

_Elliot dropped his mouse at their feet and looked up at his master and mistress entwined in one another's arms. His nose twitched and his tail flicked irritably from side to side as they seemed somewhat preoccupied. He sat down and tipped his head on one side. Oh...kay ... does this mean no pizza?_


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

It was supposed to have been a quiet affair but the restaurant was full to bursting as family and friends gathered to wish them well. Don had to stand on a chair to make himself heard above the clamour. Someone let out a loud whistle and silence fell. "Ladies and gentlemen please raise your glasses. To the bride and groom. Mr and Mrs Mac Taylor!" If the sound of the reply was overwhelming, the applause almost shattered the windows. The newly-weds did the tour of the room endeavouring to speak to all the guests. While Christine was pinned down by a maiden aunt desperate to know every detail of her ivory silk and lace dress, Mac spotted an old friend from the Marines.

"Well you certainly haven't changed much." Jimmy Fulton laughed, his deep baritone voice ringing around the room as Mac walked over to them. The two men embraced warmly. "There was me imagining you as desk-bound cop with mounds of paperwork, empty boxes of doughnuts, and your eyes glued to a microscope but my illusions have been completely shattered. Your young friend here was just regaling me with your latest adventures." Jimmy slapped Adam on the shoulder and the young lab tech blushed under Mac's questioning gaze. "Seriously Mac, ambushing an armed bonsai master from inside a water-tank, crowning his Sumo wrestling friend with a plant pot and tying up the crazed junkie with garden wire. You're something else." Jimmy laughed again as Mac glared at Adam who was giving his best 'it wasn't me' look. "And now you guys have got yourselves a nice little nest egg or did you spend it all on the wedding?"

Mac gave a small laugh. "Er … no we didn't keep the stamps." Danny and Lindsay who had been standing listening to the exchange stared at Mac in surprise. "They weren't ours to keep."

"What did you do with them? I thought you said you'd sold them." Mac looked at Lindsay and nodded.

"You're right Lindsay, we did and we put the money into a trust fund for Bryony."

Danny rocked back on his heels. "Who's Bryony?"

"Sally Merchant's daughter." Mac smiled as he felt his new wife join him sliding her arm through his.

Jimmy looked incredulous. "Whoa! You gave the money back to the bad guy's sister?"

Mac shook his head. "Not exactly. It pays out as a monthly stipend towards her daughter's upbringing and education thereby ensuring that Sally and Bryony will have a steady income and Tristan will never be able to get his hands on it."

Jimmy shook his head in amazement. "And there was I thinking I could pull the poor old soldier routine on you?" he guffawed.

Danny laughed and pointed his finger. "You're too late for that. Once bitten, twice shy hey Mac?" Mac winced and rubbed his jaw at the memory as Jimmy looked pointedly at Danny for an explanation. "Tristan got him with the 'give an old soldier some change' routine. As soon as Mac bent down to put some money in the hat, Merchant clobbered him with a brick and got some poor unsuspecting cab driver to 'help' him into the back of a cab before being punched for his trouble. You're too generous for your own good Mac!"

Christine merely smiled at her husband. "Mac and I have everything we need." Mac glanced down at his wife and looked around at his team, his family. Don and Stella raised their glasses from the other side of the room. Jo and Sid waved while Sheldon and Camille shared a glass of champagne, their arms wrapped around one another. Mac suspected that they might all be attending another wedding shortly. He looked back at Danny and Lindsay and at Lucy who was busy swirling around with Christine's nieces in their pretty bridesmaid dresses. _Yes he truly did have everything!_

A secretive glint came into Mac's eye as he looked at his wife. "Speaking of which, I haven't had the opportunity to give you your wedding present yet." Christine looked up at him in surprise. "Would you excuse us for a few minutes?" As everyone nodded wondering what Mac had got for Christine and Danny nudged Lindsay whispering a lewd comment which earned him a slap, Mac led a curious Christine out through the kitchens, through the side-door and into the hallway. He pulled her towards the stairs ignoring her protests and waited for her to gather up the skirt of her dress so she could follow him up the steps. He led her along the corridor and pulled out a key.

"Mac what are we doing at my old apartment?" Mac didn't say anything but turned the key in the lock, reached a hand inside and flipped on the light switch.

"Now I believe it is traditional for the groom to carry the bride over the threshold." Before she could say anything Mac scooped her up and with a nudge from his hip he pushed the door open and stepped inside. He gently placed her on the floor and stepped back. Christine appeared to be frozen to the spot as she looked at the room. She was in her apartment yet not in her apartment. She looked at Mac in amazement.

"What …?"

"If Madame would be so kind as to follow me?" he asked in mock politeness holding out his arm. "The guided tour starts here in the remodelled living room. As you can see the kitchen has been enlarged to take up the space that was the bathroom and fitted with all the modern labour-saving devices." Christine gazed at the room in amazement, noting that the absence of bookshelves made it look much larger. The kitchen was completely different and now sported a breakfast-bar and a steam-oven which she had always wanted. "If you'll come this way, you'll see that the wall to the bedroom has been knocked out to allow for a study and a staircase ..." Mac held her hand as she followed him up the wrought iron, spiral staircase surrounded by book shelves "... that allows easy access to Madame's extensive collection of culinary works." Mac grinned at her through the banisters as her face lit up. "Here on the upper floor we have the original bedroom and bathroom that will be perfect for guests while the main room is now the luxury master bedroom..." Mac's voiced dripped with innuendo. "...with it's fully fitted dressing room, en-suite bathroom and deluxe shower. The entire duplex being, of course, much more convenient for Madame's place of work than her current residence." Mac turned her to face him and placed his hands on her hips. "So what does Madame think? Shall we take it?" Gently she reached up and pulling his head towards hers she placed her lips on his. After a few minutes she drew away breathing heavily. "I take it that's a yes?"

"Yes," she breathed unable to believe that he had done all this for her.

.

.

.

Two floors beneath them, Mitchell Oldham smiled to himself as he came in through the front door and spied the newly-weds going upstairs. He jiggled the hot box in his hand as he fumbled with his keys. He looked down at the old ginger tom sitting at his feet. "Yep, it was good idea of mine to show him that empty apartment Tom. It's hard to get good tenants these days but I think you're going to like him. He's a policeman and he has a cat called Elliot. It will be nice for you to have some company won't it old friend?"

_Tom looked up at his master, his nose twitching at the smell of pepperoni wafting down from the box. A policeman with a cat called Elliot huh? Wonder if he likes pizza?_

_._

**The End.**


End file.
